


Experimental Mix

by BlueMinuet



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Inui juice, M/M, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Sexual Tension, one-sided sexual advances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inui tries out a new mix of Inui Juice, but it has some unexpected results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experimental Mix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caeslin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeslin/gifts).



> Written for SASO2016. The original prompt/fill can be seen [here](https://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/13489.html?thread=4491697#cmt4491697)

Inui slams the clubroom door shut and throws his back against it. A few moments later, there’s banging on the door, as if someone is trying to break the door down, but Inui braces himself, throwing his weight into it while he secures the lock. Eventually the banging stops. Inui clutches his notebook to his chest and slides down to the floor. 

“Problems, Inui?” 

Inui jumps a bit, and when he looks up Fuji is looking down at him, smiling. Inui scrambles off to the side, putting distance between them. 

“Fuji!” 

Fuji cocks his head to the side, smile waivering. “What’s wrong, Inui?” 

Inui keeps scrambling until he’s against the wall, and slowly stands up. He holds out a hand to Fuji, as if trying to calm a wild animal. “Stay back,” Inui says in the most gentle tone. “I just need time to make an antidote.” 

“Antidote?” Fuji asks. “An antidote for what?” 

“The latest juice,” Inui says. “Experimental Mix #73.” 

“Oh right,” Fuji says. “The cayenne and pineapple really helped with that one.” There’s another bang on the door, drawing Fuji’s attention. “Did the others not like it?” 

“It was supposed to be energizing,” Inui says. “But the effect was too strong, I think. They’ve become a bit…” He turns his gaze to the window, where Kaidou is hitting him with a surly glare. “... savage.” 

To Inui’s surprise, Fuji laughs. “I see. Well, Inui, there’s no need for you to be afraid of me then. Your juices never have the same effect on me as they do on others.” 

Inui stops and considers this. He lets his arm fall back down to his side, but doesn’t let go of the notebook he’s clutching to his chest for dear life. “Right… Of course.” 

“So, antidote?” Fuji asks again. “I assume you have an idea?” 

“Maybe.” Inui makes his way over to his locker and fishes out his blender. “I’m not exactly sure what will reverse the effects, but I still have my notes from creating it. I should be able to come up with something.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” Fuji looks over to the window. Momoshiro is pressed against the glass, eyes slightly red. Fuji decides to close the blinds. “Seems I’m stuck in here with you until you come up with a solution.” 

Inui nods. “You can grab the ingredient bags I have in my locker and bring them over here if you’d like,” Inui says, setting up his blender on the table. He sets his notebook next to it and opens up to the right pages. 

Fuji comes up next to him, just a hair too close of Inui’s comfort. But, Inui thinks, the worktable never was quite as big as he would have liked, so it makes some sense. Fuji sits the bags down and smiles again. “Mmm, Inui. Something smells good. What do you have in these bags anyway?” 

“The standard ingredients used in most all of my juices,” Inui answers. He’s still hunched over the table, skimming through his notes. Was there too much cayenne in the recipe? No, at the end of the day, that was only there to disguise the taste of the— 

Inui’s thought process stops dead in it’s tracks when Inui feels Fuji’s fingers tracing over the back of his neck. “Mmm, Inui. I think I just figured out where that delicious smell is coming from.” 

“O-oh?” 

To Inui’s horror, Fuji brings his face close, and takes a long, loud sniff over Inui’s neck. (Right over the arteries, Inui’s brain provides. An important point for pheromones.) 

Inui shoots up ramrod straight, bringing his neck out of the range of Fuji’s nose. “What are you doing?” 

Fuji smiles at him. It’s something like a predatory animal now, though not quite so feral of one as the others seem to have been transformed into by the juice. No, Inui thinks, this one is hunting for something slightly different. 

Fuji runs a finger over Inui’s neck (arteries, Inui hastily remembers with a spike of dread) and slides it over his throat and down his sternum. When the finger reaches his belly button and shows no sign of stopping, Inui backs away. 

“Fuji…” 

Fuji shushes him as Inui keeps backing away. “We’re stuck in here, Inui. We might as well—” Inui abruptly runs backwards into the locker, and Fuji pounces, pressing a hand into each of his shoulders. “—make the best of it.” 

Inui drops, ducking out from Fuji’s grasp and scooting around him. “Fuji, this isn’t you. I think the juice is having an effect you.” 

“Inui Juice never affects me,” Fuji purrs, turning to stalk Inui again. 

“Rarely affects you,” Inui amends. “And not always in the same way as the others.” Inui’s brain keeps producing words, spewing them out as he searches for a means of escape. “It would actually be very interesting to study, I think, and—” Inui miscalculates the space he has and bumps back into his worktable. Fuji is prepared now for Inui to flee, and counters by pinning an arm on either side on his waist. Before Inui can try to slip away again, Fuji presses their bodies together, pinning Inui to the table. 

“Fuji,” Inui whispers. 

“It’s not the juice, Inui,” Fuji says, and his voice wavers just slightly. “You’re just… irresistible.” 

Fuji’s body presses harder against Inui, and Inui squirms in what little room he has. He tries to deny that it feels… kind of nice. (That’s the lizard brain, he thinks to himself. The limbic cortex. He can’t let his baser urges win like that!) He reaches out, his hands grazing over his now-spilled ingredients, grasping for something that might help. 

Meanwhile, Fuji’s face seems to draw ever closer to his, and Inui doesn’t have much room left to dodge him. 

Finally, Inui’s hands hits a familiar plastic bottle and he wraps his hand around it and squeezes. 

Fuji steps back, slightly startled, and Inui takes the opportunity to aim a little better and squirt him right in the face with the spray bottle. Fuji flinches and stumbles back a little. 

“What is that?” Fuji asks. Fuji looks up, and as the liquid drips down his face, he sticks out his tongue to lick some up from his lips. “Is that vinegar?” 

“Yes.” 

“Hmm, well that’s fine.” Fuji tasting turns seductive as he slowly runs his tongue over his upper lip. 

Inui squirts him again. 

“Hey!” 

Inui back up onto the table, since he’s mostly lying on it anyway, and curls his knees up to his chest, still pointing the spray bottle at Fuji. “No sudden moves.” 

“But—” Inui squirts him again. 

Fuji pouts as Inui pulls his notebook from the rubble of scattered ingredients and flips it back to the correct page. 

“You are going to stay there,” Inui says, his voice trying very hard to be steady, “while I finish the antidote. And then, you will test it.” 

Fuji opens his eyes just enough for Inui to see them roll. “You can’t be serious. You have no idea if a cure that works on me will work on the others.” 

“I don’t have very many other options.” 

“Well…” 

Inui sprays him again. 

“Come on! Inui!” Fuji wipes the vinegar from his face angrily with his sleeve. “You can’t say you weren’t enjoying yourself!” 

“I wasn’t.”

“Really?” 

“Yes.” 

Fuji crosses his arms. “Then quit hiding your crotch with your legs and prove it.” 

Inui instinctively pulls his legs closer together. “... No.”


End file.
